


The Wrong Idea

by cordeliadelayne



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Embarrassment, Gen, Medical Examination, Mpreg, stern aragorn, stubborn frodo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 21:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6676195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frodo finds that after giving birth, staying still and doing as Aragorn asks is the hardest task he's yet had to face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wrong Idea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilybaggins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilybaggins/gifts).



> Written for the lovely lilybaggins, who asked for Aragorn examining Frodo. 
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal in 2014.

Frodo was lying in bed, slowly drifting in and out of dreams of Rivendell and Saruman. He kept having to remind himself that everything was all right now. He had a child and was safe in Hobbiton now, with Sam and Aragorn not far away and Gandalf due any day now. But he was bored and anxious that he could hear movement in the kitchen – he should be providing hospitality for his guests, not the other way around.

His gaze drifted to the small cot next to his bed, where his child lay soft in sleep. He still couldn't believe all that had happened in these past months, it all seemed like a dream.

He simply couldn't stay there any longer though, he had to get up. With an ache that twisted in his gut he levered himself up from bed and moved his legs so they were dangling over the side of the bed. Gritting his teeth in determination he launched himself up, hissing as his feet hit the ground.

He ignored the slight wetness he felt as he moved and started pottering around his bedroom. He tidied away some of his soiled clothes and started replacing books on bookshelves and the pillows on to the chair Sam had slept in last night – despite Frodo telling him that there had been no need. (Frodo had been very glad of his calming presence in the end but he knew that he had to start relying on himself more, now that he had a child).

Frodo was just contemplating what else he was going to do when the door opened. The first thing he noticed was the smell of vegetable soup and just how hungry this simple act of tidying had made him. The second thing he noticed was Aragorn's displeased face as he took in the sight of the Hobbit out of bed.

“Frodo? What are you doing?” Aragorn's voice was tight and controlled, but Frodo could practically feel the anger rumbling towards him. He remembered Aragorn telling him that he shouldn’t move or he would do damage to himself, but really, how could he stay still?

He opened his mouth to explain but Aragorn was moving quickly towards him.

“You are bleeding,” Aragorn hissed, and grabbed Frodo roughly by the arm and helped him back towards the bed.

“I -” Frodo began to speak, but Aragorn shushed him quiet.

“I need to examine you.”

Frodo felt his whole body heat up, which at least took his attention away from the pain. Aragorn gently began lifting Frodo's legs into position, even as Frodo thought back to all the other times this had happened. That had been the worst thing, really, the changes his pregnancy had wrought on his body, the female parts he now possessed. They still didn’t feel exactly real and he had been hoping that they would soon revert back to normal, but had been too scared to ask anyone when that might be for fear they'd tell him the answer was never.

“Is that – do you...”

Aragorn's glare would have been enough to curdle milk. It certainly quailed any objections that Frodo had been about to make.

“You should be taking better care of yourself, Frodo. Don't move.”

Frodo watched with some trepidation as Aragorn left the room and then returned with a bowl of what he thought was warm water. Carefully Aragorn washed his hands and then sat himself at the foot of the bed, already pushing Frodo's legs further apart.

Frodo held back a cry as Aragorn's fingers dipped inside him, pushing and pulling at folds of skin, all the while muttering things about Hobbits and recklessness that Frodo pretended not to hear. For all Aragorn's obvious annoyance though, his touches were tender. He made sure to thoroughly examine Frodo, his fingers never faltering in their task. He then proceeded to push Frodo's clothing even higher up his body and to start massaging at his belly. Frodo's face heated up but he did nothing except try and monitor his breathing as Aragorn had taught him; it would not do for panic to overtake him now.

It took a few moments for Frodo to come back to himself enough to realise that Aragorn had stopped his ministrations. Wearily he blinked and stared down the bed to where Aragorn was now lowering Frodo's legs.

“I'm sorry,” Frodo said.

Aragorn shook his head. “Frodo, I don't do these things because I want to cause you discomfort. Quite the opposite. You are my friend. And I care very much what happens to you, and your little one. But you must take my instructions seriously.”

“I just...I don't like having to rely on others.”

“You relied on Sam well enough.”

Frodo shrugged. “Sam's different.”

Aragorn gently patted Frodo's leg. “Be that as it may...”

“I won't get out of bed until you tell me it's all right,” Frodo said, resigned.

Aragorn looked over towards the window, where sunlight was still pouring through. “There's nothing to say that we can't move you _and_ your bed though, is there?”

Frodo's eyes widened. “But...”

“Perhaps a little fresh air in the garden will do you some good. Provided you stay still and let me know the second, the very second, that you begin to feel discomfort.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Frodo said. He was excited beyond measure now that there was a real chance of his being able to see a little more of the world than just the four walls of his bedroom.

“I'll get Sam to help me.” Aragorn stood up and smiled down at Frodo and his child. “Don't move until I get back.”

Frodo smiled back and nodded. Now that there was a real chance for a little freedom, Frodo was not about to do anything that might jeopardise that. Instead he waited patiently, staring at his newborn son and deciding that, as usual, Aragorn was right.

And he had never felt more happy to be wrong.


End file.
